Classic Drives: 1929 & 1930 Blower Bentleys

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The Mille Miglia is, arguably, the greatest classic car event in the motoring calendar: two and a half days and 1000 miles through some of Italy's most stunning scenery, including visits to Verona, Padua, the Republic of San Marino, Rome, Sienna, Bologna and Modena before returning to the start/finish line at Brescia.

It is also uniquely Italian.

No other nation has a love affair with cars like the Italians. Men, women, young and old throng the roads hoping to catch a glimpse of the contestants and their machinery and when that is a pair of Blower Bentleys dating back more than 80 years they are drawn to them like moths to a flame. I've never had my photograph taken so often or, bizarrely, signed so many autographs as I did during this year's event.

Bentley being Bentley didn't ferry their precious Blowers down on a truck, we drove them the near 1000 miles from the UK to Brescia. Both cars easily held their own at a steady 80-90 mph on motorways across France and into Switzerland before crossing into Italy.

Following them in a W-12 Continental GT coupe I was surprised that even in the confines of the air-conditioned cabin, and trailing them by 100 yards, how their distinctive exhaust notes could be heard: the 1929 Team car, No. 9, with its fishtail exhaust a deeper, bassier note than the 1930 car with its standard exhaust.

Famously, W.O. Bentley disapproved of the Amherst Villiers supercharged engines that Tim Birkin used in the Dorothy Paget sponsored cars, believing that the route to extra power lay through increased capacity rather than forced induction. He did, however, relent on the condition that Birkin would follow team orders in the 1930 Le Mans race.

Bentley's biggest rivals for that year's event were the fearsomely quick Mercedes-Benz SSKs. Also supercharged the difference was that the driver's switched the blower on and off like an afterburner, whereas the Bentley's was permanently engaged. Birkin set off as the hare, setting a searing pace which would gradually grind the SSK's into submission. Number 9 lasted for 18 hours before it too failed, leaving the way open for Barnato and Kidston to claim Bentley's sixth victory and fifth as a works team.

GH6951 is one of 50 road cars built to satisfy homologation rules of the time riding on a 130-in. chassis. This one is, in fact, the 17th built with a standard Vanden Plas touring coachwork. It was also Bentley Motor's London showroom demonstrator before it was sold into private ownership in 1931. Bentley acquired the car at the Festival of Speed for £414,000 ($646,000) and have completely restored it, including a new fabric body and rebuilt the ash frame where needed.

Weighing in at some 3858 lb. it's a hefty car to be powered by only 175 bhp at 3500 rpm with 9-psi boost, yet it will still reach three figures (just about), if pushed and given a long enough time to get there.

Number 9, the Birkin team car, was probably the most valuable car on the event. Although Bentley refuse to disclose how much they paid the late Victor Gauntlett for it in 2000 it was likely to be well north of seven figures. It differs visually from the homologation cars with a chassis that's 12.5 in. shorter, narrower bodywork and cycle style wings. A stronger crank allows boost to be upped to 10 psi increasing power to 240 bhp at 4200 rpm. That's sufficient for a 120-ish top speed, enough for Birkin to set a new Le Mans lap record in 1930 of a remarkable, for then, 89.696 mph.

As valuable as these cars are, I was instructed by Andrew Day, president of the Bentley Drivers Club, and later echoed by head of Bentley's Heritage Collection, Richard Charlesworth, to treat the cars firmly and with respect. Being gentle just doesn't work with vast drum brakes and non-synchro gear boxes: as with the 8-Litre I drove last year you need to double de-clutch on the way up the gearbox and down, but this time with a hefty boot on the throttle to bringup the revs. Try to ease the right-hand located lever through the ratios just results in gears clashing like some angry mechanical beast chewing on them.

The most challenging change on both cars was 2nd to 3rd, in both directions, but because the engines rev so slowly and have such a wide spread of torque they will pull away in 3rd gear from as low as 1000 rpm, although it can be like a steam train grinding its way up a long gradient. Once momentum is gained, both cars were surprisingly easy to pilot, the Birkin car the nimbler, if that word can be used with cars this big and heavy.

Both cars force you to re-evaluate your driving style, demanding that you read the road ahead and plan your manoeuvres. Late braking and turn-ins are a strict no-no, as they would simply understeer into oblivion; brake well in advance in a straight line and be prepared to muscle that large diameter, thin rimmed steering wheel through the corners.

Electrical gremlins, centred around modern fuel pumps, blighted both cars during the event, more so the Birkin car, so much so that Charlesworth and I were the last to officially finish this year's event. The final indignity being a blown fuse within sight of the finishing ramp in Brescia, by which time our support crew had long gone. Fortunately we managed to jury-rig a spare fuse and Old Number 9 limped over the line at nearly 2 a.m. on the Sunday morning.

Little wonder then that the first I knew of the magnitude 6.0 earthquake that hit the region in the early hours of that morning was when I went for breakfast and saw images on the local television news.